


Never Walk Alone

by Elkian (SuperImposed)



Series: Veils [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: And Actual Death Experiences, Car Accidents, Character Death, Drabble, Gen, Ghosts, Grim Reapers, Near Death Experiences, afterlife stuff, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16900062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/Elkian
Summary: Death is slightly less pre-destined than many believe.





	Never Walk Alone

He was back.

Okay, KC amended, maybe they weren't a "he". But he felt like a he. KC doesn't freaking know, they didn't write the rules for ghostings and hauntings and supernatural crap!

KC's shoulders hunched as they power-walked down the sidewalk. Trying to ignore him was like trying not to poke your tongue into the gap where a tooth had been - nearly impossible, and requiring a lot of focus.

The fire chief had said it was a "miracle" that KC had made it out of the house alive at all, let alone under their own power. They'd thought that was a bit of an exaggeration...

But, ever since then, they've been seeing _really weird stuff_ , all over the place.

Case in point - KC ducked to avoid some kind of bird-based specter, all green feathers and rolling red eyes (at least 4) and angry quacking. A few passerby gave them odd looks before they scurried on.

...

Okay, the suspense was _killing_ them.

"Why are you here?" they ask as they round the corner, hand up to one ear like they're on the phone. The strange- not a ghost, they aren't entirely sure what he is - glances over at them.

Which feels really, really strange _when he has no eyes_.

Not that he's blind, KC's met blind people, but that his eye sockets and above kind of... fade off into a mist. The top hat he's wearing today follows suit, top of the stack trailing off and indistinguishable. His hands and feet are the same, which makes the motion of him picking up a teacup disorienting, and KC swiftly looks away.

The stranger and his portable tea party follow. "That's a good question, KC." His voice is smooth and soothing. "I am partly here for you, and I am partly here, possibly, for another."

"For me?" KC shoots a sharp look either way, then crosses the street at a rapid clip, feet speeding up in their agitation. "Why?"

The not-ghost taps an insubstantial finger against his chin. He kinda looks like a sepia scarecrow (plus all the ghosty bits), all long limbs and weird amber palette. "I am the Reaper of the Lost, Kay Clarence Roget. Those who slip through the cracks of the universe, who die at unanticipated times or in unanticipated ways-"

"-or who live through things they weren't supposed to?" KC finishes, slowing to a near-halt, ignoring the dirty looks of the other pedestrians and entirely missing the giant horned _thing_ that looks at them with hungry eyes, only to scamper off when the so-called Reaper turns his -its? their?- endless gaze on it. KC swallows. "You here to fix your mistakes, huh?"

"No, no. I do not take souls from this plane. I merely escort them." The Reaper spreads his hands. "You are an unusual case, and I the patron of unusual cases. You have naught to fear from me... but causality has its eyes, so to speak, on you."

"...what."

"You see beyond the veil now, yes? Ghosts, specters, monsters, things humans never developed names for. You are connected to death, despite having escaped it. That connection bears the weight of fate, though what fate I cannot say. I am merely here to observe... and to procure an oncoming passenger."

"I thought you said you were for _unanticipated_ arrivals," KC says slowly, turning, the hairs on the back of their neck and down their spine prickling. Something.... "Or departures."

"I am also the Reaper of those too young to have an established destination," the Reaper says, tone turning mournful. They can suddenly smell the tea, hot and pungent and bitter, like boiled thistles or burning houses. "And others for whom no particular afterlife is prepared."

KC's barely listening, eyes roving, breathe frantic and cold. _Something is..._

Their legs are moving before they even realize what they see. Their hand is outflung-

 

 

 

_thud_

 

 

 

"Ah," Morbicand says softly, drifting over to the cooling corpse, paying no mind to the shocked shouts of the driver or cries of the child.

 

"I see I was only here for one after all."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Morbicand originally went by Morbicund but.... potential typos forced my hand.
> 
> I've had him around for a while but he doesn't work too well as a stand-alone so I haven't made much use of him, yet.


End file.
